


A Glass Half Free, Half Empty

by doctorintheskies



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bisexual Dean Winchester, Coda, Established Relationship, Fix-It, M/M, Post 15x19
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-25
Updated: 2020-11-25
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:14:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27715291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doctorintheskies/pseuds/doctorintheskies
Summary: Sam and Dean are driving to get Eileen. They've saved the world again, brought everyone back. Well.. almost everyone, but Dean doesn't feel 'finally free' like he thought he would. There's something missing, someone, and there are feelings bubbling up that Dean can't control. In an attempt to free himself once and for all, he prays, and maybe he finally gets to utter the words that were unsaid before. The words he's needed to tell him for far too long..
Relationships: Castiel & Dean Winchester, Castiel/Dean Winchester, Destiel, Eileen Leahy & Sam Winchester, Eileen Leahy/Sam Winchester, saileen
Comments: 7
Kudos: 93





	A Glass Half Free, Half Empty

Sam and Dean have been on the road for a few hours now. Although, to Dean, it feels like an eternity. They’re going to get Eileen, which is great.. It is.. but there’s a nagging sensation at the back of Dean’s mind that he can’t get rid of. He’s been trying to place where exactly it stems from, but all he’s been able to figure out is that it seems to be spreading all throughout his body, as well as the fact that it gets worse every time he looks over at Sam.

Sam on the other hand, is doing just fine, he’s been texting with Eileen almost constantly since they got in the car, and he is, to an extent, happy. They did it, once again, saved the world and all that. Brought everyone back.. Well, almost everyone. Dean was the one who said that they were ‘finally free’ before they left, but Sam knows that’s a bit too good to be true. It’s been four hours now, and Dean has spent the entirety of it, with a pained expression on his face, staring straight ahead at the road. That, to Sam, doesn’t look like someone who’s ‘finally free’. He tried talking with him at first, but he soon got the message Dean was trying to send, more on a mental wavelength than a technological one this time. His brother was not in a mood for talking, and when Dean doesn’t want to talk, Sam has learnt it’s better to leave him be, until he’s ready to open up about it. Although, this time, he’s pretty sure he knows what’s wrong.

The clock keeps ticking, the wheels keep turning, and the nagging sensation Dean’s been having ever since.. _that_ , is not getting better. It doesn’t help that he’s exhausted, he hasn’t slept properly in.. a while. He can’t anymore, he doesn’t want to, because every **single** second his mind starts to drift it all plays out before him again, and he can’t make it stop. It hurts the same amount as it did the first time, but no matter how much Dean wants to, he can’t change it. No.. he can’t do this now, he needs a distraction. So Dean finally decides to turn to Sam. Maybe it won’t be so bad this time, and hey, they should actually stop and get some food soon anyway. He sure could use another drink by now. When Dean turns his head, Sam huffs a quiet laugh at his phone. _Probably at something Eileen said_ , Dean thinks, and the feeling gets more pressing than ever. If he was being honest, he’d admit that he’s a bit taken aback by it. Because whatever emotion it is, it hurts.. and it feels like.. like envy. Sam raises his head, their eyes meet, and Dean instantly has to look away again. As soon as he saw his brother’s smile fading that quickly; the happiness that Sam was exuding now changing to something completely different, pity maybe, he couldn’t bear to keep looking. Dean didn’t realise that his own expression spoke louder than anything he had put into words before this, but he did notice his eyes starting to burn, and he felt uncomfortable, vulnerable. _C’mon, man, this is not a chick flick moment, get your shit together_ , he thinks desperately, over and over, trying to make himself believe it.

As soon as his eyes start welling up, Dean shuts it down by clearing his throat and blinking the tears away.

“Dean.. are you alright?” Sam asks when his brother has returned to his stare-off with the asphalt. “You know, you can talk to me about it..” He tries not to sound too worried, since that tends to set Dean off rather than help him, but it’s difficult when Sam can clearly see how much Dean’s struggling, hurting.. _mourning_.

“I’m fine, Sammy, don’t worry about it,” Dean responds in a would-be light tone, putting on a fake smile, which his brother reluctantly returns. A few moments pass by without either of them saying anything. The only sound to be heard is the consistent humming of the Impala’s engine, and the semi-regular _ding_ -sounds coming from Sam’s phone.

“Maybe we could stop there and get something to eat?” Sam points out, as they pass by a road sign guiding them towards a diner a couple of miles ahead. “And I could drive for a while, Dean. You need to get some sleep too. I know you haven’t gotten much lately, but driving constantly isn’t going to fix _it_ ,” he adds, rather matter-of-factly. Sam usually does that when he thinks he knows what’s best for his brother and doesn’t want to cause an argument. Which Dean is all too aware of. But something about how Sam says it, the choice of words and how he enunciated, emphasised on _it_ , tells Dean that he may not only be talking about Dean’s bad sleep schedule. That, he elects to ignore for now, but he doesn’t see any point in arguing with him either. He only wishes that he actually could sleep. _Forget_ , instead of it being like this, a constant reminder, _a constant pain in the ass_ , Dean thinks.

They stop at the diner after the short ride there. Dean gets a burger, Sam gets a salad, Dean drinks more than he should, the usual, except it’s really _not._ Everything is not as it _should_ be, as it _used_ to be. They sit by a table with three seats, and Dean can’t help but imagine the third chair being taken by something, by someone, who isn’t there. He keeps staring at it, as if that would make a difference, as if he could will _him_ back into existence. But it’s _empty,_ and it keeps being _empty,_ no matter how long Dean spends on pleading for it not to be; telling it that it _shouldn’t_ be. He feels the anger flooding back, all of the emotions he doesn’t understand, that he hasn’t gotten a hold of, and he can’t take it anymore. By some divine power, which certainly isn’t Chuck, Dean stands up with such force that he surprises even himself. Sam looks up at him with a startled expression and asks, “Dean, what are you-”

“I’m gonna go to the bathroom,” he responds, and before Sam can speak another word, Dean walks hastily to the back of the diner. But instead of going to the right where the toilets are, he takes a hard left and exits the diner through the back door.

It’s getting dark now, and when Dean takes a step outside, he’s greeted by the gentle breeze of the wind, and fresh air filling his lungs. He sighs heavily and thinks, _Can someone please explain to me why the hell it still feels like I can’t breathe?_ Dean looks around the parking lot, for something to do, something to throw, or punch, or break, but there’s nothing. It’s _empty._ The anger’s bubbling up again, but he knows it doesn’t lead to anything good, so he tries to just let it simmer out.

_And you think that hate and anger, that’s… That’s what drives you, that's who you are. It’s not._

The words appear suddenly in his mind, burning forcefully into his consciousness. Dean feels like his knees are going to give out beneath him, and so he finds a bench in the corner of the parking lot to sit down on, to help him carry some of the weight. He leans forward and puts his head in his hands, closing his eyes, and thinks back to that moment, trying to hear it, internalise it, just focus on the _words._

_I cared about the whole world because of you._

After a couple of shallow breaths, he does feel like the words are easing the anger a little bit, but to Dean’s distress, they give him just as much heartache. It seems like they’ve opened up the wound again, and no amount of rage can distract him from the gaping hole that’s growing and growing, somewhere close to his soul. He feels _empty._ It’s familiar in a sense, because Dean has felt this way several times over the past decade. The feeling of loss that’s so profound, so deep, so unforgetting, unforgiving, infinite. But he still doesn’t get it. They were supposed to finally be free, they beat God for.. Earth’s sake. The biggest hurdle, the last boss, the epic finale, they beat it all, _so where’s the freaking happy ending?_ Dean thinks, furious.

_Happiness isn’t in the having, it’s in just being. It’s in just saying it._

Dean sobs. And he knows, he’s known deep down, for a long time. The same phrases keep flashing before his eyes over and over. He can hear _him_.

_You are the most selfless, loving human being I will ever know._

He’s taken back, to a place he recognises very well, and even though it’s not a pleasant occurrence, he’s gotten used to it by now, but so far only in his sleep.

“No, no, no, please.. don’t.. I _can’t_...” he whispers to the ground, shaking his head hopelessly, as tears begin to break the surface tension. Slowly but surely growing in numbers, trickling down his face, more and more at a time.

_You changed me, Dean._

And he’s there, for what feels like the millionth time. He can hear _him_ clear as day. Almost as if _he_ wasn’t _gone_. As if _he_ wasn’t in the _empty._ And it all comes crashing down, as if a huge looming wave has been waiting to crush him. Like it was his destiny to be pushed outside the eye of the storm. The emotions, the memories, the _angel, him._ He watches it all play out, again, and again, and again. He’s tried everything to change it, to speak, to move, to do _something_ , _anything_ , but he can’t. Dean’s forced to watch the worst scene of his life repeating itself on an endless loop. Like Chuck planted one last trap by jamming the replay button on his favourite show, Dean’s despair. But he knew that this was inescapable, the question was always just until how long. His subconscious, where he desperately tried to bury all of it, has inevitably caught up with him. And Dean realises that it’s all because of _him,_ because he’s _gone. Again._

_“Why does this sound like a goodbye?”_

_“Because it is.”_

The pain seems to be itching its way deeper, burying itself into the core of Dean’s soul. It’s not like he thought he could run forever, but he sure as hell thought he would get further than this. All of the hurt is tearing at the edges of the wound, making the hole bigger, consuming whatever good that was left there, devouring it, leaving Dean.. _empty_.

**_“Cas...”_ **

The name clumsily stumbles its way out of Dean’s mouth. _His_ name. “I can’t.. I can’t do this, man.” He looks up at the sky for some kind of comfort, and finds that it’s filled with stars. “I- I need to tell you something… Something I didn’t get to say before.” He sniffles, trying to gather his thoughts, waiting for the world to stop spinning, when he sees a certain star. A more prominent one than the rest. It’s almost.. _blue_. He chooses to focus on it, and while thinking it’s indeed very stupid, he still wishes for that particular star to be Cas. Envisioning it to be him, he tries to speak the words he’s been wanting to say to the angel for way too long.

“I could have stopped you.. But I didn’t, again, and I’m.. I’m so sorry Cas. I swear to.. Jack, or whatever, that if you can hear this, I want you to know.. that..” Dean takes a deep, shuddering breath, pinching the bridge of his nose and squeezing his eyes shut before he opens them, looking intently at the blue star once again, and continues. “I’ve wanted to tell you this for a while now.. You know, when we were in Purgatory.. right before we went back through the portal, I meant to say something else too, something other than what I said in the prayer.. And when we were in the bunker.. when you told me that you were gonna sacrifice yourself and told me about the.. um.. other _things_ ..” Dean pauses, needing another moment to process.. _things_ . “Yeah, anyway.. I wanted to say something back, anything.. but I just couldn’t.. So that’s why I need to say it now. And I don’t know if you want to hear it, I don’t know if you wanted to hear it then even, and I’m not sure what.. um.. how..” Dean grunts, annoyed at himself for struggling despite him having had plenty of time to think about this. About what he so desperately wants to say, about what he _needs_ to _tell_ Cas. “ I don’t know how you’d react if you were, you know, _here_..” Dean’s voice breaks on the last word, and he curses himself under his breath. 

“What you said about your _true happiness_.. and all.. _that_. It was.. um... At the time I couldn’t really process what was happening, or what you were saying, ‘cause it was just a bit too much, you know.. I mean, you were gonna die, man..” He shakes his head as his vision gets clouded by tears. “You know I’m not good with all of this.. emotional stuff.. but I want you to know that...” He clears his throat, attempting to make his voice sound clearer, more sure of itself, but alas, failing miserably. “It meant _a lot_ to me, Cas. So, um.. thank you.. uh.. for that. And what you said about me.. um.. about _us_.. I _think_...” Dean whispers, as the smallest hint of a smile _graces_ his lips, “that was um.. confusing, ‘cause I’ve never thought you felt that way. Like.. felt _emotions_ that way I guess.. And I did think about it.. quite a few times actually.. I just kinda assumed that, you know, you with your angelic, feathery ass.. that you _couldn’t_ feel things that _profound_.. or something..”

Dean looks down, suddenly getting a rush of anxiety. He takes another shuddering breath, trying to calm himself, collect his thoughts. But it’s hard when he could have sworn that he, for a second, could see the blue star changing its gaze. Making it burn right through his eyes, straight into his soul, challenging him, no.. not challenging him, _encouraging_ him to continue. _Man.. Sammy’s right_ , Dean thinks, _I really should lay off some of the drinking, ‘cause I’ve probably had one too many today.._ When Dean decides to speak again, he only has time to part his lips before he’s interrupted once more.

_… because the one thing I want... It’s something I know I can’t have._

Dean chuckles. “You know what, Cas? Maybe we’re both just a couple of dumbasses..” He wants it to feel good, saying those words. Not for it to be as painfully bittersweet as it is, and as he realises that, his smile fades. “It’s just.. with the whole Chuck-thing and him controlling all of existence, since forever, every **single** thing about our lives, I couldn’t make a difference between what was Chuck’s doing and what wasn’t, you know.. I just couldn’t. How was I supposed to know if it was real or not, Cas, if _we_ were? And you’ve left us so many times.. and I don’t blame you for that.. But I thought that maybe you didn’t care, that you didn’t _feel_ things that way, that you didn’t want to be there.. That maybe _I_ was the problem.. that ultimately, it was because you didn’t want _me_..” He quietly sobs, as the meaning of the words etch their way onto his broken heart. “But none of that really matters, if what you said to me was true.. and if that’s the case.. then I was obviously in the wrong.. and I was, Cas.. I was _wrong_. ‘Cause Chuck is gone, and he has been for a while now, and I still don’t feel **free**. Actually,” he laughs, although it doesn’t reach his eyes, “I feel worse than ever.. But I’m hoping that at least just _being_ , you know, maybe just _saying_ it.. will get rid of some of the constant pain-in-the-ass aching.. which is your fault, by the way.” Dean puts his hand over his left shoulder, holding it, not fully aware of his surroundings, and spends a good amount of time just admiring the blue star before he finally thinks, _Okay.. here goes nothing_. 

“I love you.”

As soon as he says it, when he _finally_ says it, after all this time, he feels like some of the weight he was carrying has been lifted. Relief washes over him and he smiles, a genuine one this time. But as fast as it appeared, it disappears again, almost like Chuck used what was left of his godly powers to trick him again, ripping the rug out from underneath him. The star’s _gone_ , it _fell_ , and it hits him again. Cas is _gone._ The only thing that made Dean feel safe, like he wasn’t alone, like there was _something_ tethering him to this existence, it’s _gone_.. He doesn’t understand how being so _empty_ can feel so **heavy**.

When they’re out on the road again, Sam is driving, and Dean falls asleep at last. He doesn’t get much rest though, since he dreams of the blue star. _Where did it go? Why did it leave? Where is he?_ Dean wakes up, surprised. His phone is buzzing, someone’s calling him. It’s not a number he recognises, but he picks up like usual.

“Hello?” Dean asks, groggily. _Who would call this_ _late on a Thursday?_ The line is quiet at first. Sam looks over at Dean questioningly, Dean shrugs in response. He’s about to hang up, but before he gets that far, when he’s removed the phone from his ear, hovering over the ‘end call’ button, the person on the other end speaks.

“Hello Dean.”

He sounds almost as groggy as Dean does, but there’s no mistaking it. A few seconds pass by, although they feel like years, and Dean can’t find the words to respond. “It’s good to hear your voice,” the angel continues, maybe in an almost too casual manner.

“Cas?” Dean asks disbelievingly, having put the phone back to his ear by now, clutching it with both of his hands, still worried that _he_ might disappear again. Sam looks over at Dean, eyebrows raised, shocked, watching the road as much as he keeps turning to his brother.

“Yes, I thought that would be obvious,” Cas says in his typical, monotone voice, but Dean can hear him smiling through every word.

“But what happened-? How did you-? What?”

“When.. um.. when the Empty took me and Death, it grabbed Death’s scythe along with us. And I thought, since the Empty only wants angels, I used the scythe to cut out my grace..” There’s a long pause before Cas utters his next words.

“I fell, Dean.”

“Oh..” Dean can’t help but let it slip out. There’s a raging storm of emotion beneath the surface of Dean Winchester right now, and he’s over the moon that Cas is back, but, is it really him? What if this is some sort of elaborate plan of Chuck’s to mess with him? And is.. is Cas _human_? Then does that mean he-? “How do I know that this is actually you?” Dean asks imploringly, breaking his own train of thought. What he wants most of all in the world, in all of the worlds that have ever existed, is for Cas to be back, but he has to make _sure_.

Cas is silent for a moment, thinking of what to say, before he tells Dean, once again, “Happiness isn’t in the having, it’s in just being, it’s in just saying it.. but for me, Dean, above all of that, it’s just _you_.” The angel speaks the words as if it was written in the stars, in the most heartfelt way imaginable. And with one sentence, Dean feels a hundred pounds lighter. Tears come pouring down his face a second time this evening, which isn’t a normal Thursday in his books. But what’s even more unusual is that he’s crying out of _joy_ , out of _love,_ out of _happiness_.

“Are you okay? Where are you? Are you hurt? Wait- hold on, Cas, I need to tell you something.” He was not going to let this chance slip by. Not ever again.

“No, it’s okay, Dean, I’m okay. You don’t have to say it.. I- I heard your prayer.” And it does bring Dean comfort to know that he doesn’t have to do that entire speech one more time, but he also doesn’t want to leave anything unsaid, anything unspoken between them. Not for a second longer.

“I know, but I want to... I love you too, Cas. I _love_ you.”

“And I love you, Dean.”

This time Dean can hear that Cas is crying too. Dean blushes, embarrassed, but in the best way possible.

“But.. um.. what happened with the Empty?” Dean wonders, needing something else to focus on, that’s **not** his cheeks getting visibly red. _Dammit_ , Dean thinks as Sam notices, and grins at him.

“I killed it.”

“You what?”

“After I used the scythe to cut out my own grace, I used it to kill the Empty.. And I’ve thought about it, and I would argue that ‘the Empty’ more accurately portrays its name now.. since it’s, you know, actually empty,” Cas tells Dean, with a smirk.

Dean laughs at the.. well.. non-angel’s stupid joke. 

“You son of a bitch.. you did it. You actually did it,” he responds in awe. “Now tell me where you are so we can come pick you up and bring you home.” 

“At a telephone box.. um.. by some motel, along Route 44, ‘The Huggy Bear’, I think it’s called.”

“Huh, okay, I’m pretty sure I know where it is and we’re not that far off. Sammy and I will look it up and make sure though, but we’ll be there in like one hour, tops. Then we’re going to get Eileen,” Dean says, content.

“.. Dean?” Cas asks.

“Yeah, Cas, what is it?” Dean gets worried for a second, thinking that something may be wrong.. again.

“I just want to confirm that, yes, we are in fact, ‘a couple of dumbasses’.. as you so nicely put it.” Dean can hear the air quotes even from one state over. He rolls his eyes in mild exasperation. _I’m in love with this idiot.. Really?_

“Then it’s settled,” Dean states with a heartfelt smile. “But don’t go anywhere, alright? Like, ever again, you hear me?”

“I hear you, Dean. I won’t, well.. unless you don’t.. because then I’ll come with you.” Dean’s heart aches at that, longingly, for this dumbass, _his_ idiot.

“Okay, deal,” he says, with the certainty of a thousand blue stars.

“I guess I’ll.. um.. I’ll just wait here then,” the _fallen_ angel, in more ways than one, responds lovingly.

Dean hangs up the phone, to look up exactly where they’re going, and to tell Sam every single detail he had been waiting anxiously to hear about ever since Dean got the call. And ever since Cas and Dean met, obviously. Before the Empty, Sam made a bet with Eileen on how long it would take for ‘Deancas’ or ‘Destiel’ or ‘Bert and Ernie’, as they like to call them, to _confess their mutual love for each other_ , and they _finally_ did it. Sam lost, because he thought it would take "At least another 10 years of intense eye stares before one of them breaks.” Sam had witnessed too much of it to not believe they could go on like that, almost forever. But Eileen had jokingly bet that it would happen “After one of them dies and comes back alive, again.” So.. now he owes her.. a kiss on the cheek. Eh, a win-win situation, really.

When all is said and done, Dean doesn’t feel _empty_ anymore, he feels _full_ . But not full equating to like, **heavy** . He feels.. _free_ , and Dean thinks that, if _this_ is what feeling free is really, truly, like, then he can’t wait to feel that a whole lot more from now on.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this before the finale, since I was scared they'd mess it up.. Well, guess what :) Had to wait to get my AO3 account until I could post this here, otherwise I would've uploaded it as fast as humanly possible, trying fix whatever the hell that was. Either way, this was my way of ending the story happily, and I hope that if you were unsatisfied, or heartbroken like I was, after the non-Destiel, non-Cas, and generally non-good "canon" ending, that this could bring you some joy and comfort. Also, if you got this far, thank you for reading <3
> 
> P.S. I appreciate your comments immensely ^_^ Hope you have a good day!


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